


Rasslin' With Your Right Hand

by dustandroses



Series: Handling Your Weapon [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Ficlet, Gun Kink, M/M, MMoM 2011, Masturbation, Other, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayne and Vera have always been close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rasslin' With Your Right Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Merry Month of Masturbation, Day 16.
> 
> Beta by Ozsaur, my hero and shit.
> 
> Special thanks to Ozsaur - the ending was all her ~~idea~~ fault.

**NOTE:** Hover your mouse over the  Chinese words in all capitals to see the English translation.

 

It was kinda creepy the way Mal was treating Jayne lately, watching him as he worked or sat around talking to the crew, or even just plain _eatin’_. Jayne found it downright disturbing to look up with his mouth full of food and find Mal’s eyes on him, a shadowy look that Jayne couldn’t rightly figure out hiding behind his eyes. It had Jayne glancing behind him, to make sure he wasn’t being followed and jumping at the smallest thing. Most of all it had him thinking of finding Mal in a corner somewhere and sorting it out the hard way.

Then their last job went bust, and they ended up in a fight Jayne feared they might not come out of. He got tackled from behind, Vera flying out of his hands and landing on the grass a good six feet away. Zoe did her best, taking down the mercs, guns blazing, but she had to be careful not to hit Jayne or Mal, which slowed her down some.

When Mal’s gun jammed, he dived for Vera, and Jayne’s first instinct was to yell, “Don’t you touch her!” He got distracted by the fay-fay duh pee-yen with the knife who was trying to make mincemeat outta his left thigh, which was the only thing the merc could reach, the way Jayne was sitting on him. Bout the time he got the knife away, Jayne heard Vera’s voice singing to him, and alarm surged through him like wildfire.

He had to admit, he could see the military man Mal used to be in the way he handled Vera, standing straight and tall, letting her take care of things the way she was built to. Jane was right unsettled by how good the two looked together. She turned the tide, all by herself – it made Jayne proud. Later, after the hwoon dahn were all dead or run off, Mal handed Vera back, almost reverent-like, telling Jayne he’d never handled a better gun in his life.

Jayne blustered, telling Mal that’s ‘cause there weren't no better gun in the 'verse. He was surprised at how well Mal'd understood Vera - better than Jayne expected him to. Mal wasn’t usually the kind who appreciated the finer qualities of a firearm, but he could tell Mal had been impressed with Vera. That didn’t stop the feelings in his gut though. Some other man had had his hands all over his girl, and that just wasn’t right.

Once they got back to the ship and Wash took ’em off that pile of go se they called a planet, Jayne took Vera back to his bunk. He ignored Mal and the doc, who wanted him to get his banged up shoulder and the knife wounds in his thigh fixed up. He’d worry about them later; he needed to talk to Vera first.

Remembering Mal with his hands all over Vera had Jayne so wrought up he couldn’t think right. He hadn’t liked seeing the two of them together – it raised all sorts of troublesome feelings in him that he didn’t know how to deal with. He got out Vera’s favorite blanket and laid her out on it, wiping her down, erasing all traces of Mal’s touch. He whispered to her the whole time, telling her how good she’d done, and how he near burst open with pride when Mal had talked about her so respectful-like, stroking her barrel with admiring hands.

Jane shifted in his seat, uncomfortable just thinking about the way Mal’s hands had caressed Vera. He started breaking her down, giving his girl the attention she deserved, and reminding her who she belonged to, ‘cause he remembered how good Mal had looked out there with Vera cradled in his arms as he gave those hwoon dahn what for. He looked like a hero, and Jayne didn’t like the thought that she mighta enjoyed Mal’s hands working her, touching her like that.

The cleaning settled down both Jayne and Vera, reminding them of their bond the way it always did after a battle. Finally he stripped, allowing the usual post-battle rush to take over, his already half-hard cock jumping in his hand. His breathing got heavy as he put Vera back together, rubbing her down, rubbing himself too, getting Vera’s scent on his skin and his scent on her. Once she was gleaming, he took her cleaning rag and ran it over his cock and balls, moaning at the softness and squirming as his need increased.

Greasing up his hands with Vera’s gun oil, he stroked his cock fast, ‘cause he was too het up to wait any longer. Jayne’s eyes focused on Vera as he slid his hand back behind his balls, the oil making it easy to slip a finger inside, wiggling and thrusting in and out. Closing his eyes, he saw Mal, angry eyes blazing as he shouted, “Nobody messes with my crew!” and Vera blew their enemies into tiny little pieces.

Shouting loudly, Jayne threw his head back, his come spurting out over Vera’s blanket, paying her the tribute she deserved.

Laying back, Jayne stretched out and the two of them relaxed for a bit before Jayne went to the Infirmary and let the doc take care of his wounds. By then it was time for dinner, and he sat down eagerly. There was nothing like a good meal after a fight and a rassle with your right hand.

The doc kept sniffing and looking around all puzzled-like, and finally he up and said, "Does anyone else smell oil? I noticed it in the infirmary earlier, and now I smell it here, too."

Jayne grinned around his mouthful of food, but didn’t say nothing. Zoe raised one eyebrow at Mal, who shook his head with a sigh.

“It’s normal for a soldier to clean his guns after a fight, doc. That might be what you’re smelling.”

The doc frowned at Jayne, like he’d bit into something sour. “Don't you ever bathe, or at least wash your hands?"

Jayne shrugged, “What for? It ain’t Thursday, yet, is it?” The shepherd sighed and Jayne grinned, reaching over to steal the last biscuit off the doc’s plate with his smelly hand.


End file.
